


Welcome, strangers, to the show

by grabmyboner



Category: Stranger Things (TV 2016)
Genre: Alternate Ending, Demodog Death, Gen, Harringrove, I'll tag it just in case, I'm a member of the Billy's Not Dead Fanclub, Other, Post S3, Suicidal Thoughts, The Upside Down, Wounds, kinda???, mentioned kinda ???
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-12
Updated: 2019-11-12
Packaged: 2021-01-29 09:57:59
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,824
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21408313
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/grabmyboner/pseuds/grabmyboner
Summary: Billy didn't die in Starcourt, he's stuck in the upside-down.-I'm fixing the mess of s3. youre welcome netflix.
Relationships: Billy Hargrove/Steve Harrington
Comments: 14
Kudos: 89





	Welcome, strangers, to the show

**Author's Note:**

> look i dont fken kno how the upside-down really works so if this sounds wrong im sorry but just pretend its canon ok. 
> 
> the fic title is from dumb things by paul kelly, bc i think the song kinda fits the vibe of this fic ????
> 
> thank you for reading my friends

He has officially been here for 3 months. 3 whole months. 3 months in the  _ cold.  _ 3 months in  _ fear.  _ 3 months of slowly losing  _ hope _ that someone will find him. 3 fucking months.

Billy has been in this  _ place _ for 3 months.

He woke up here, after what felt like being in a damn coma for weeks. The last thing he remembers is hitting something in his car, calling for help, realising he probably has some kind of head injury after having some cryptic conversation with a clone of himself.

It wasn’t a dreamless sleep he had. He doesn’t remember everything but he recalls seeing himself doing  _ things _ , things he doesn’t like. Remembers being at Heather from the pools house, eating dinner. Remembers sitting on the lifeguard post, feeling so fucking  _ hot _ . Everything else is just fragments that don’t make much sense. Before he opened his eyes, he remembers looking into the big brown eyes of a girl, remembers her touching his face so tenderly, remembers  _ seven feet _ , remembers feeling  _ strong _ .

When his eyes finally opened, he felt like he had been stabbed on every available surface of his body. He lifted his shirt up, looking for signs of the abuse - Only to find nothing. No blood, no wounds, no scars. Not a single scratch. He was as good as new.

When he first got here, he had no idea what the fuck was happening. Everything was  _ similar _ , but nothing was the  _ same _ . It was like everything was kind of,  _ upside-down _ . He thinks he’s heard Max say that phrase before, ‘ _ The Upside-Down _ ’, while talking with her gaggle of nerds. He thought it was just something to do with their stupid dragon game or whatever.

But now he’s been in the upside-down for 3 months, and he doesn’t know what to do. After the first week here, he kind of got over the initial shock. He started to conclude that, no, he wasn’t dreaming, and yes, he could very much die here. He realised the second one when he turned to walk down the main road in Hawkins and saw a bunch of petal headed  _ dogs _ ripping a smaller, injured one to bits. The yelps and cries of the creature being torn to shreds stuck in his head for days.

After 3 weeks, he decided if he was stuck here, he needed to set up a place to  _ sleep _ . To  _ survive _ . To  _ live _ in. And what better than a place that looks like your home? So, now he’s in his house, he’s barricaded the windows and doors. He’s realised that making too much sound attracts  _ things _ , things you do not want to encounter. So he’s quiet and sly and  _ safe _ . For the most part.

He raided a grocery store for all the canned goods available. He’s stocked the whole house full of them. He’s been surviving on canned soup for the past 3 days. He’s about to run out.

6 weeks in, he searched through every room in his house for something to do. He’s read every book, he’s even read every one of Max’s stupid comics. And when he got really bored, he slowly crept out of the house, to the junkyard and made as much noise as possible just so he could smash some black gooey creatures heads in. He’s been working out a lot, he’s bigger than he was at the start of summer. His beard is gruff and hoarse on his face, he thinks he wants to cut his hair. He loves his mullet, but the particles that fly through the air matte his hair together. And he can only untangle it so many times.

2 months and 2 weeks in he finds Max’s radio under her bed. He hates the thing from the number of times it’s woken him up at ungodly hours with it’s crackling. But it gives him an idea. The phones don’t work, he’s already tried them. They just go  _ beep beep beep beep _ over and over. He smashed the house one already.

So, for the past 2 weeks, every day before he goes to bed, he radios. It’s usually to Max. The first few times he used it, it was just to anyone who might hear him. But now, now that he’s pretty certain that no one can hear him, he just uses it to keep himself sane. To feel like he’s not completely alone. Pretending he’s talking to someone, anyone. He might go crazy if he doesn’t do it.

“Hey, Mad Max. So today, when I was hangin’ around the junkyard I found this little keychain thing under a car.” Billy says into the radio, “It’s of like, a yellow volkswagen beetle. I remember, back in Cali, Mrs Schneider from next door, the lady that had the stupid little Dachshund that was most definitely hellspawn, anyways, like Mrs Schneider’s car. I remembered you loved it when you first saw it. If I ever come back, you can have it.” He fiddles with the chain between his fingers, he’s laying in Max’s bed. He usually is always in Max’s bed when he makes the radio calls.

“And, and maybe one day, we could find a little yellow bug in a junkyard, we could fix it up together or somethin’ y’know. I think that would be nice, Maxie.” His voice evens out to a whisper, like he’s hoping if he says it quiet enough the world around him won’t eat the words up and spit them back in his face. “Anyways, I better go. Big day and all tomorrow, gotta walk ‘round town for a few hours and wallow in my existential doom y’know? Talk to you tomorrow Mad Max. Over and Out-oh and it’s Billy by the way, if you didn’t catch on. Ok, yep. Ok bye.”

It’s not always Max he radios, sometimes he’ll be wandering around that day and see something that’ll remind him of someone. Today he was at the school.

“Harrington? How’s it goin’? Missin’ me? I bet you are. Miss me pushin’ you around on the court, hey? You been practising your blocking? You really should be, need to get better at that shit, pretty boy. Don’t need to hear any more of Tommy acting like he’s better than you because he can block a shot. He ain’t shit.”

Sometimes he feels hopeless, sometimes he just stares at the radio on Max’s duvet and lets tears spill from his eyes. He never in his life thought he would miss Hawkins.

He didn’t notice at first, too busy with the absolute madness of the upside-down and even once he got over that, he just thought he was imagining it. But sometimes, if it’s quiet enough, if the air is still and everything is just right; he  _ swears _ he can hear people. Swears he can hear voices just living their day to day life.

The first time it happened, it was Neil’s voice he heard. He was in the kitchen, sitting on the floor, drinking tomato soup from the can, he threw the canned lid on the tiles and as he was swallowing the last of the soup he heard the faintest voice. Although it was barely audible, it was gruff and mean and it sent a shiver down his spine. “ _ Who the fuck left this on the ground? My house isn’t a fucking trash can _ .”

“M’fuckin’ losing it.” He whispers to himself, after whipping his head around in search for his father. He got up and washed his hands, turned around to grab the canned lid off the floor only to find it was no longer there. He took a breath, rubbed his eyes and went straight to bed.

The second time it happened, he was in the woods, behind Harrington’s house. He was there a few days ago, looking around the area, for what he didn’t know, but he felt like he needed to go there again. Felt something pull him there when he woke up that morning.

_ “M’telling you Henderson, there was someone walking around here the other day. I swear to god I saw them.” A voice says. _

_ “Look, I think you believe you saw something, ok, but I don’t think you saw what you think you saw. Geddit?” Another voice, Henderson, he’s guessing, says. _

_ “I-W-What?” The first voice responds. Billy imagines them scratching their head in confusion. _

_ “Don’t worry. Let’s just keep looking - Then you promised you’d buy me pancakes-Steve? Don’t walk away, Steve! Say you promised to buy me pancakes!” _

_ “Yeah yeah. I’ll get you your damn pancakes.” Steve Harrington says. _

Tonight, the night that makes it officially 3 months since he’s been here, he’s wrapping up a wound on his forearm. A demodog caught him by surprise when he was raiding a gas station, scratched him good and proper, tearing effortlessly through the golden skin. He managed to get away and hide until the dog was attracted to something else.

He’s laying on the floor of Max’s room, staring up at her poster of someone surfing a beautiful wave on the west coast. He remembers taking Max to the record shop back in Cali, and her spending the entire time convincing him to buy it for her, saying she’d pay him back. She never did.

“Well, it’s been 3 months. I wonder where you think I am. Probably  _ not _ lost in some black hole alternate dimension, that’s for sure.” He presses the corner of the radio against his chin, “I don’t know if I can last much longer here, a dog almost got me today. Honestly, don’t know if I’m glad I got away. What am I even staying alive for?”

He huffs out a laugh and rubs at his eyes stopping the tears before they fall.

“ _ Fuck _ , just-I. I know I was shitty for the past year, Max. I’m sorry. I don’t blame you for what happened in California. I don’t. You didn’t know. I just, I was so  _ mad _ . Mad at everything, and you-you were the easiest target. I’m so sorry.” He can’t stop the tears now even if he tries.

“I just had to say that, before… in case I die. Bye Max. Over and out.”

He sleeps in Max’s room that night.

-

_ “…everything, and you-you were the easiest target. I’m so sorry.” “I just had to say that, before… in case I die. Bye Max. Over and out.” _

El sits up, a cry falling from her lips. Joyce takes the few steps from the kitchen to the lounge El was napping on, stepping around it to bunch her in her arms.

“Hey, hey sweetie. It’s just a dream. Just a bad dream. You’re ok.” She reassures her, holding her shaking frame.

El pulls herself from Joyce’s grip, shaking her head violently. “No,  _ no.  _ Not a bad dream. I saw him, he’s-he is  _ stuck _ .”

Joyce frowns, cupping her face and wiping the fallen tears. “Who’s stuck? Stuck where?”

“Billy. In The Upside-Down.”

**Author's Note:**

> I might add a pt 2 where billy and hopper find each other in the upside down. this orginally was gonna have hop in it too but this orginally was also supposed to be like 200 words but here we are bc i have no self control. anyways, lemme kno what u think.


End file.
